


Realization

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama, M/M, Series: Songs that Answer, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 04:43:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair gets hurt, and Jim sits with him in the hospital.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Realization

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. I am not a doctor, so if anything in the story is medically incorrect, please don't flame me. However, if there is something here that is grossly incorrect, please write and I will revise it before putting it up on my website.   
>  2\. //...//=dream ///...///=flashback 

## Realization

by Brandy

Author's webpage: <http://www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/4053>

Author's disclaimer: I don't own these characters, and I am not receiving any money in exchange for this story. The songs "Wind Beneath My Wings" and "Everything I do" are used without permission.

* * *

Jim stood as Simon finished talking with the doctor. They met in the center of the waiting room. 

"He's in a coma," Simon said softly. 

"I know," Jim said slowly, emotionlessly. Even though he couldn't face talking to the doctor, he hadn't been able to stop listening in. 

"Let's go," Simon said as he put an arm around Jim's shoulders. He sighed as Jim leaned into him, then pulled away. It was obvious that Jim thought that what happened today was his fault when there was no way anyone could have predicited what Blair had done. But it shouldn't have surprised anyone. Blair had always been protective of Jim, and Simon couldn't think of a situation where Blair wouldn't give his life for Jim's. 

The elevator ride was silent. When the door opened, Jim made a right and started down the hall. Simon checked the signs on the walls and realized that Jim must be tuned into Blair's vital signs, because the doctor had told Simon what floor Sandburg was on not which room he was in. 

He started to follow Jim, but stopped as Jim entered Sandburg's room. Simon shook his head and started toward _Blair's_ room. Blair had more than proven himself, it was time for Simon to stop distancing himself from the other man. Blair might give all he had to give to a job that wasn't even his, and Simon couldn't pretend that Blair wasn't one of his men. 

* * *

The sound of the heart monitor seemed to fill the room, but Jim welcomed the sound. It confirmed that his Guide was really alive, and that Jim wasn't dreaming. 

Dimly, he heard Simon enter the room. Every sense, however was focused on Blair. He smelled of antiseptics, blood, and iodine, but underneath the smell of the surgery, Blair still smelled like Blair--herbs and musk. It was a comforting smell, one that had lulled him to sleep before. Jim swallowed down a sob as the thought of what might happen if that smell should disappear for any reason. 

His heartbeat was slow and a bit faint but beat out the familiar rhythm that Jim now knew was imprinted on his soul. Blair's breathing was shallow, but regular, and the rhythm soothed Jim. His Guide was alive now, and Jim refused to think about what tomorrow might bring. 

Jim slowly reached out and touched his Guide's hand. The skin was cold and pale, so Jim pulled the blanket farther up on Blair's chest. This brought his eyes to the bandage. 

It encircled Blair's neck. Jim could see the bruises that were already darkening to a violent purple. Jim sighed as he felt Simon grip his shoulder, pulling Jim from the zone out he had been sinking into. 

"Why did he do it?" Jim whispered as he sat forward and put his head in his hands. Blair had almost given his life for Jim's, and Jim couldn't understand it. He couldn't survive without Blair, didn't Blair know that? Didn't Blair know that without him, Jim would be in an insane asylum or out on the streets? 

Simon stared at his friend then at his hand, still hovering in the air. "Jim, you're his friend, his Sentinel," Simon said softly. 

Jim was silent. Simon sighed and looked at Blair's pale face. He leaned forward and squeezed Blair's hand. 

"We're praying," Simon said roughly. He left the room and was immediately surrounded by Joel, Rafe, and Brown. They were silent. 

Joel made the first move by clearing his throat and looking down at the plastic bag in his hand. The plastic was smeared with blood, and the shirt inside was almost saturated with it. 

"What should I do with this?" Joel asked as he shifted from one foot to the other. 

"Burn it," Simon bit out. "He's in a coma, and Jim wants to be alone with him right now. I'm going to get a chair and take first watch." 

Simon slowly met the gaze of each officer. "I want this case wrapped tighter than a prom date's thighs. We have everyone in custody, but I want to make sure that there is no way they can weasel out of a conviction," Simon finished. 

All three nodded and hurriedly walked away. Simon went to the nurses' station and appropriated a chair. He sat down to the left of the door and waited. 

* * *

//Blair was diving into Jim, knocking him to the side. The sound of the gun going off followed a split second later. The sight of a bullet tearing through Blair's neck followed by a plume of blood seemed to happen in slow motion. Jim's scream for a medic was panicked. Simon watched as the medic and Jim fought over how to treat Sandburg, the blood spurting across Jim's shirt, soaking it. The scream of an ambulance siren...// 

"Sir, Sir, wake up," a soft voice said firmly. 

Simon jerked and checked the time--four a.m. He had been asleep for an hour. 

"What is it?" he ground out as he jerkily stood. "Is Blair all right?" 

"He's as well as can be expected, but you were about to fall out of your chair. Maybe you should leave," the nurse said as she stared up at Simon. 

"No. I'll be all right, thank you. Is there a coffee machine on this floor?" Simon asked. 

"Yes, there is, Sir. On the other end of the wing. There are signs for the vending machines further down the hall," she said with a sad smile. 

"Thank you," Simon said as he quietly opened the to Blair's room. He stopped in his tracks. 

Jim was asleep or praying. His head was resting on the his hand which covered one of Blair's. Simon carefully closed the door and started toward the vending machines. He softly whispered a prayer on the way. If Blair died, Jim would kill himself, either with the job or with a gun. 

* * *

Jim laid his head on the bed when Simon mentioned coffee. He didn't need coffee to stay awake. Everytime he closed his eyes, he could feel Blair knocking him to the ground and hear Blair's grunt as the bullet ripped through his thoat. 

He had heard Blair's heart skip a beat as he rolled them over to protect Blair from the cross fire that ensued afterward. His blood was spurting out with every beat of his heart. 

He pulled back, pinched Blair's carotid artery closed, and screamed for a medic. 

The blood was still seeping from around his fingers, and when the medic pushed him out of the way, Jim's fingers slipped, and blood spurted into his face. 

He had pushed the medic away as blood spurted once, twice, three times across his shirt before he could pinch the artery closed again. They had been three quarters of the way to the hospital before the EMT could convince Jim that he could apply the bandages without Blair losing anymore blood. 

Jim raised his head to look at the bruises he could see. They were just the size of Jim's fingers. 

"Why, Chief?" he asked again as he smoothed hair from Blair's forehead. "You might die or be stuck in this coma for the rest of your life. They aren't certain if you'll be able to talk and won't be certain until the swelling goes down. What will you do if you can't? I would never forgive myself, Chief, if you don't recover completely," he whispered as he laid his head back down on their hands. Then he began to pray. 

* * *

Simon paced up and down the hall. The doctor was examining Blair, and Jim was just sitting there. Simon didn't think Jim was zoning exactly, but he seemed to be concentrating dangerously hard on the examination going on inside the hospital room. 

The doctor came out with a smile on his face. "I think that Mr. Sandburg is out of danger now. His brain wave activity indicates that he has almost come out of the coma. I expect him to wake up by tomorrow," he said then grew more serious. "The damage to his larynx is still iffy. The nerves don't seem to be damaged, but we won't know more until the swelling goes down." 

Jim just sort of slumped. It was amazing to see the change on his face. Lines disappeared around his mouth and eyes, and suddenly, he got up and almost ran to the bathroom. 

Simon thanked the doctor and quickly followed. He slowly opened the door to the bathroom. Jim's sobs echoed in the small bathroom. Simon opened the door to the stall and stepped inside. Jim shoved him, but Simon wasn't going to be pushed away. He wrapped both arms around Jim and hung on. 

Jim stopped fighting, then it was like a dam crumbled. Tears flooded the police officer. Jim shook with the force of his sobs. These were tears that had accumulated over several years that were finally being released. Blair was the crack that had finally undermined the dam Jim had built around his emotions. 

Finally, Jim calmed down and weakly tried to pull away, but Simon wouldn't let go of him. 

Simon said softly, "Jim, I'm your friend and your captain. Never hesitate to come to me when you need either." Then Simon let him go and stepped back. 

Jim drew in a shaky breath and said, "Thanks, Simon," before pushing by Simon and began washing his face at one of the sinks. "Let's go," he said as he straightened up. "Rafe and Brown are wondering where we are." 

They walked out and met Rafe and Brown at the door to Blair's room. They were loaded down with stuff. They had a plant that was obviously bought in the hospital gift shop, a radio, and bags of fast food. 

"Hey, guys, how's he doing?" Brown asked as he handed the food over to Jim. 

"The doctor thinks that he'll wake up sometime tomorrow. No word on how badly his larynx was damaged," Simon said when Jim didn't say anything. 

"That's great," Brown said with a grin as he slapped Jim on the shoulder. 

"We brought some stuff for Blair. Figured he would freak at cut flowers so we bought a plant, and maybe he'd want some music," Rafe said as he showed them each item. 

"Thanks," Jim said roughly as he opened the door for them. He was glad they were here, but sad too. It would mean that he would have to talk, or at least answer when they asked him something. Jim didn't know if he could do that right now. It was just too much to handle, too much effort. He felt exhausted and raw. 

Rafe put down the radio and tuned it to a soft pop station then handed the plant to Jim. "Listen, we're going to be right outside, Jim, in case you need us," Rafe said as Simon motioned them toward the door. He squeezed Jim's shoulder as he walked by. Simon ushered them out and left behind Rafe. 

* * *

"What's the matter, Simon? We were going to stay inside with him," Brown said softly. 

"Jim's really torn up right now. I don't think he could handle being around anyone," Simon said then yawned. "I'm going home to get some sleep. Call me if there's any change." 

"Yes, sir. And sir," Brown said as Simon started to walk away. He waited until the captain turned back before saying, "the perps are going down. We have so much on them that they'll be lucky to get out of prison before they're too old to commit another crime." 

"Good work, guys," Simon said over his shoulder as he started back down the hall. 

* * *

Jim sat beside the bed. He was grateful that Simon talked to Rafe and Brown. They were his friends, but right now, he couldn't handle any pity or sympathy. It required a response of some kind, and he didn't think he could act normal right now, whatever normal would be in this situation. 

That was part of it in a way. How were you supposed to act when the one person that seemed to always know what you were thinking and feeling might die? Even now he might die. There could be complications of some sort. An infection or .... Jim tried to shake the thought out of his head. 

Blair was strong, but what he did was unthinkable. Jim kept coming back to what Blair had done for him. Blair had given him an anchor and the training to live in his life, do his job, and stay sane. 

And Blair had saved his life. Jim had been wearing a vest, but from his position behind the canister, his head was exposed to the man sneaking up behind him. His neck had been approximately where Jim's head would have been. 

"It wasn't _right_ , Blair," Jim whispered as he gripped Blair's hand a little too hard. Inside he started to rage at Blair. Jim knew his job was dangerous, but Blair was always right in the middle of the job. He wouldn't _be_ an observer. Blair always had to be right there beside him. 

"You're supposed to grow old, Chief, not die because I wasn't paying attention to who might be behind me. You have to stop getting involved," Jim said a bit louder. Even as he said it he knew it was stupid. Blair would never be able to stand on the sidelines. He got involved with all aspects of his friends' lives. 

Jim sighed and positioned his chair so that he could hold Blair's hand and lean back in the chair. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep. Finally, he dozed off into a light sleep. 

* * *

Jim jerked awake as he felt Blair's hand being pulled from his. A nurse smiled apologetically. 

"I'm sorry, sir, but you're going to have to leave for a few minutes," he said as he hooked up another I.V. bag to Blair's drip. 

Jim got up and stood just outside the door. Rafe and Brown looked up from the chairs they had pulled from the waiting room. 

"You all right, Jim?" Brown asked as he handed Jim a cup of coffee poured from a thermos they must have brought with them. 

"Thanks," Jim said as he accepted the mug. "I'm all right. I actually managed a cat nap. The nurse asked me to leave," Jim said by way of explanation. 

"Oh, how do you think he's doing?" Rafe asked gently. He didn't want Jim to shut down, but he felt that Jim had to talk about what had happened in some way. 

"I think he's going to be fine. I just hope..." Jim paused and cleared his throat. "I hope that his larynx didn't suffer any damage. It'd kill him if he couldn't talk everything to death." 

"Yeah," Brown said softly. "I know what you mean. But I'm sure that he's going to recover. Blair's strong, Jim." 

"I know," Jim said with a sad smile. "I know." 

"You can go back in now," the nurse said from the door. 

"Thanks," Jim said softly. "Thanks for the coffee, guys," Jim said with a faked lightness as he opened the door to Blair's room. 

"No prob, Jim," Brown said as the door closed behind Jim. 

* * *

"I think I'm more worried about Jim than I am about Blair. If Blair dies ..." Brown trailed off. 

"I think that if Blair doesn't recover fully, Jim is going to drown in guilt anyway, especially if he can't talk," Rafe said with a shake of his head. 

"Nobody knew that Blair was so damn heroic. Did you hear the stuff people were saying down at the station this morning?" Brown asked in astonishment. 

"Yeah, about how they knew he was good enough to tag along with Ellison. Half of them didn't even know Blair's name until this morning. The other half just ignored him," Rafe answered with a sigh. "And we were really no better. We either teased him or ignored him." 

"Yeah, and if Blair doesn't recover, I'm going to kick myself for the rest of my life for starting the "Hairboy" nickname," Brown said as he stared down in his coffee. 

Rafe put an arm around his partner and squeezed before letting go. They all had their regrets where Blair was concerned. 

* * *

Jim stared out the window. It was night time. The moon was full. He smiled as he thought about the first full moon after Blair had moved in. Jim had gone to bed early to be awakened after midnight by the door to the balcony being opened. 

/// 

Jim had crept down the stairs to watch as Blair lit raw incense on a charcoal briquette that was centered in the middle of a cloth with a pentacle embroidered on it. Blair sat there in the cool night air for what seemed like hours. He seemed to be chanting, but Jim couldn't really make out what he was saying. 

When Blair got up the next morning, Jim had said, "You know, Blair, if you want to celebrate a Sabbat or whatever, you don't have to wait until I'm asleep." 

Blair froze. "Thanks, Jim." 

"Hey, even though it's temporary, you live here too." 

Blair had blessed him with the most amazing smile. It was strange. It was only later that Jim realized that Blair hadn't been accepted unconditionally by most of the people in his life. 

/// 

Sam was one example of those people who just couldn't seem to love and/or care for Blair without trying to change him. He had even tried to change Blair, until he realized that he couldn't change his best friend. All that crap about "house rules" had just been hot air, and Blair had known it. 

Blair had always known Jim's mind, almost better than Jim. It was strange, but he knew it was what he needed. He needed someone who knew that he wasn't nearly as cold and unemotional as he seemed. You could wall of emotion, but that didn't mean it was gone. 

* * *

Jim smiled as the d.j. started talking about love and what it meant to people. The d.j. was talking about the roles that people assumed in relationships. He said that some people were nurturers, and some people were the protectors. Then, he announced that he had a set of songs that demonstrated what he was trying to say. 

"It must have been cold there in my shadow,  
To never have sunlight on your face.  
You were content to let me shine,  
That's your way.  
You always walked a step behind." 

Jim sighed at the truth behind those words. Blair was always behind him, even if Jim was breaking the law. He never really took credit for his contributions either. 

"So I was the one with all the glory,  
While you were the one with all the strength,  
A beautiful face wthout a name,  
For so long,  
A beautiful smile to hide the pain." 

If what Rafe and Brown were discussing earlier was true, then Blair had been just someone for the people in the department to ignore and tease. Blair hadn't tried to hard to conform to the P. D.'s standards, but he almost bent over backwards to be accepted. 

"Did you ever know that you're my hero?  
And every thing I would like to be?  
I can fly higher than an eagle,  
For you are the wind beneath my wings." 

God, that was right. Jim bent his head and reached for one of Blair's hands. He sobbed quietly, not wanting to alert Rafe and Brown. Blair had saved his life, almost at the cost of his own, and Blair had probably paid for Jim's life with his voice. 

"It might have appeared to go unnoticed,  
But I've got it all here in my heart.  
I want you to know I know the truth,  
Of course I know it,  
I would be nothing without you." 

Jim cried softly as he flashed back on all the training sessions and late night stakeouts Blair had fit into his already overloaded schedule. Jim had occupied himself more than a few nights listening as Blair grumbled quietly to himself about the essays he was grading at the time, often by the light of the moon or streetlight. 

Jim had whined and grumbled through more than one training session, and he regretted it now. Maybe if he had agreed to more testing he would have noticed the perp sneaking up behind him. 

"Did you ever know that you're my hero?  
You're everything I wish I could be.  
I could fly higher than an eagle,  
For you are the wind beneath my wings...." 

Jim sobbed as he realized that Blair was his hero, his friend, his love. His Blair could be maimed because of him. Blair could die because of him. The emotions he had hid from himself welled up and overflowed, almost displacing the guilt that sharpened the pain of seeing Blair like this. 

"Oh, the wind beneath my wing,  
You, you, you are the wind beneath my wings,  
Fly so high against the sky,  
So high I almost touch the sky,  
Thank you, thank you,  
Thank God for you,  
The wind beneath my wings." 

Suddenly, the hand Jim held tightened on his, and he looked up into Blair's open eyes. Jim reached for the call button, but Blair shook he head and caught Jim's gaze as the next song came on. Blair's hand tightened on Jim's as the opening chords gave way to the words that Blair could not communicate now. 

* * *

The pain was intense. Blair had to block it off, even if it meant retreating from the one person who probably needed him the most right now. As he drifted through the black softness he had pulled around himself after the bullet punched through his flesh, he thought about Jim. 

Jim would be feeling very guilty right now. He didn't understand that Blair couldn't think of himself without thinking of Jim. "Jim and me" was a phrase that often began his thoughts. Without Jim, he didn't know what he would do. 

Blair had always talked a good game. "Love them and leave them before they leave you" had been his motto for too long. It had made for a very lonely life, until he had fallen in love with Jim. 

Loving Jim was all he needed. Sure, he had dated, and a few of them he had been infatuated with enough to have sex with them, but it wasn't what he wanted. 

Distantly, Blair could feel Jim there, beside him, holding his hand. It felt so good to be touched by him. That was the best thing about being around Jim--he was a toucher. He may not say everything that was on his mind, but he knew how to touch someone and make them understand what his heart was saying. 

Some time later, he heard voices, then music. It was eighties pop. Not exactly his choice, but the thought counted. Then Bette Midler singing about someone else being the wind beneath her wings. 

He could feel tears on his hand, and Blair knew that he had to wake up, open his eyes, tell his Sentinel that he was okay. Blair slowly opened his eyes and squeezed Jim's hand as hard as he could. When Jim looked up, he reached for the call button, but Blair shook his head as he recognized the song that was starting and hoped it could do his talking for him. 

"Look into my eyes - you will see   
What you mean to me   
Search your heart - search your soul   
And when you find me there you'll search no more 

Don't tell me it's not worth tryin' for   
You can't tell me it's not worth dyin' for   
You know it's true   
Everything I do - I do it for you" 

"No, no," Jim whispered softly as he lightly petted Blair's hair. "It's not your place." 

Blair shook his head and squeezed Jim's hand again. 

"Look into my heart - you will find   
There's nothin' there to hide   
Take me as I am - take my life   
I would give it all   
I would sacrifice" 

Don't tell me it's not worth fightin' for   
I can't help it there's nothin' I want more   
Ya know it's true  
Everything I do - I do it for you" 

Blair mentally took a deep breath and tried to mouth the words to the song. Jim's breath caught as he lip synced the rest of the song. 

"There's no love - like your love   
And no other - could give more love   
There's nowhere - unless you're there   
All the time - all the way 

Don't tell me it's not worth tryin' for   
I can't help it there's nothin' I want more   
I would fight for you - I'd lie for you   
Walk the wire for you - Ya I'd die for you   
Ya know it's true   
Everything I do - I do it for you" 

"I know," Jim whispered into Blair's ear. He started to lightly scatter kisses across Blair's face as he pressed the call button. "I love you too, baby." 

End 


End file.
